


Aftermath

by vallraining



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Depression, F/M, Falling Out of Love, Galra Keith (Voltron), Gen, Introspection, Not Beta Read, POV Second Person, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Post-War, Suicidal Thoughts, really emo don’t read, some blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-26 14:13:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14403825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vallraining/pseuds/vallraining
Summary: Waking up with him doesn't make you feel less alone anymore.





	Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Feral](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11176599) by [merlywhirls](https://archiveofourown.org/users/merlywhirls/pseuds/merlywhirls). 



> idk i wanted to write in 2nd person also i'm a stressed and depressed nugget, have a kidge
> 
> i hate the title of this

You’ve never slept well alone.

No one could ever figure out why; child therapists and sleeping pills did nothing, and neither did warm milk before bed. You tried sleeping with a night light, to “keep out the monsters”, but your mind never wove stories about the clothes in your closet or the shadows cast on your carpet. This is likely because as a child, your reason trumped your imagination, something that frustrated your parents somewhat (they so desperately wanted you to believe in Santa Claus) but did no harm in your opinion, because you were always the smartest kid in your class. You knew that logically there couldn’t be a monster under your bed, because there was no way for it to sneak in without you noticing and nothing for it to eat. But you got fivers from the tooth fairy anyways, so nothing was wrong in your book.

Keith, however, he has monsters, more than you've ever seen living inside of one person. Monsters from his childhood still swarm his head, far more horrifying than the ones who poke toes sticking out from under covers. The creatures of the war made their homes in his irises and on the surface of his skin and refuse to leave. Their claws are what have traced the red marks into both his skin and yours alike, old scrapes and scratches and healed bullet holes (one on each of you; Keith’s on his right shoulder, and yours just below your rib cage where a shot had pierced your armor.)

You don’t remember the moment it happened, but you’ve picked up enough from the words Keith used to mumble in his sleep; _blood_ and _I’ll kill him_ and _healing pod_ and _dying._ Five years ago, you died, only to wake in a healing pod hours later. Five years ago, you and Keith came to the realization that you both feel less broken in each other’s arms. You were lost without your family and so was he, the only difference being that you had a compass. In the earlier days you’d creep to each other’s rooms in the dark and be pulled into an embrace as soon as you were under covers. You couldn’t help your closeness and it quickly became familiar to the other paladins, so much so that the two of you were comfortable with napping together on the couch or nodding off with your head on the other’s shoulder. Keith’s monsters never left him, but he learned how to fight them and you both got more sleep.

Monsters aside, you came to the conclusion that you just can’t bear to be alone. It’s something you’ve always known, given that you slept in Matt’s bed for about a third of your life, and since you risked so much looking for him and your father. But it doesn’t stick until you have loved and lost. 

You pour your heart and soul into the people you love, and when they’re taken from you it’s like a piece of you is stolen as well. You grew up with a hole in your chest that could only be filled by the company of others and as you grew up the hole became bigger as the desire for someone to love became stronger. So when Keith wandered into your room one night and kept coming back, you clung to him like a lifeline and promised yourself you’d never let go. Sharing a bed turned to kisses on cheeks, which turned to always having a shoulder to cry on and you falling in love. But that was five years ago, and now waking up with him doesn't make you feel less alone anymore.

So when something slowly pulls you out of your dream at four in the morning, as has become routine, you find yourself staring blankly at his face for an untold amount of time, as has become routine. You've memorized the curve of his lips and how his mouth parts slightly when he sleeps, and how his eyelids twitch when he's having a dream, and how his eyebrows scrunch together when you shift in the bed. You’ve memorized the scar across his face and the soft lavender of his skin, and as your mind wanders you try to find Ursa Minor in the scabs on his face. 

As you lie there and re-notice every small detail of his of his skin, you begin to realize why he's looked like a stranger for the past several months.

Your footprints in the dust on the floor are yet another thing that’s strange, a reminder that you’re not in the castle anymore. So is the sound of the radiator, that sometimes sounds like a ship’s engine, and the sound of the wind chime on your front porch that occasionally sounds like the songs Allura would hum as she worked. So is the click of the gas stove igniting which reminds you so much of Hunk your eyes begin to burn and the cheesy pop songs you hear on the radio that you know you’ve heard Lance sing. There are a million little details that make your eyes prick with tears, and days it’s impossible to discern the everyday clatter of the former Paladins from familiar sounds that shouldn’t take up any headspace.

You make your way to the bathroom to splash some water on your face and say good morning to the woman in the mirror. She's a stranger, and she’s not you- it’s hard to tell if she ever was at all anymore. You can tell because the rise and fall of her chest don’t seem to be in sync with your own. Katie Holt doesn’t breathe so shallowly and she doesn’t have a war in her eyes, not like this woman. This woman’s face is scarred and twisted, and the red of the rings around her eyes is the same as that of the blood on her hands. She has tiny wires in her ears and a frown twisting her lips that you could never fake. And this woman, she hasn’t slept.

She’s not you. You are dead and gone just like everyone else, and your spirit is trapped in the body of a soldier. Your voice, your skin and your tears belong to a stranger. You are walking on someone else’s soles and living on borrowed time. There have been too many times where you've almost lost your life, when the universe tried to swallow you whole. It took away your sleep, your hearing, your friends, your sanity and your childhood. You wish it could have just taken the rest of you as well. 

Part of you knows that these are the thoughts you should be telling Keith about, but the rest of you decides to be stubborn and just shove your toothbrush into your mouth. The bitter flavor of drugstore spearmint momentarily coats your tongue and clouds your mind, and that second is long enough for your thoughts to wander and leave you thinking about Keith again. About what’s going on inside his head. That second is long enough to pull you out of your ruminating and send you spiraling into another mess of half-asleep thoughts. 

You know you’re supposed to love him- no, you know you do. You know you loved him when he dragged your limp body into a healing pod and you loved him when he put that ring on a chain and around your neck (the one that was too big for your finger.) You’ve loved him through every nightmare and every broken sob, and you’ve loved him through every lazy kiss and every night stargazing. And you still do. You are in love with Keith Kogane. Katie Holt is in love with Keith Kogane.

Katie Holt is in love with Keith Kogane. This is the problem. 

A problem that smashing your fist into the mirror apparently doesn’t fix; all it does is leave you with bloody knuckles and slices in your hands. You panic as you pull a shard of glass out of your skin and shove your hand under the faucet, but it soon becomes the least of your concern as the water mingles with the blood trickling from your fingers and is washed down the drain.

The panic and pain plaguing your brain quickly fades as you stare. It’s not a shallow cut, and the blood doesn’t seem to stop coming. You’re mesmerized as the color red pours out of you, leaves trails in the mud on your skin and falls, then gets whisked away into oblivion. Your instincts are screaming at you to _stop the fucking bleeding_ in your own voice, _yours,_ but you can’t hear it over the sound of everything you’ve ever felt leaving you at once, and the silent cry which takes its place. Time and running water become nothing as your vision starts to blur, and you don’t know how long you’re like that until there’s pounding at the door. 

“Pidge? Are you-” Keith begins to ask. His voice is unfamiliar.

You don't give him the chance to finish.“Yeah, I’m fine. Go back to sleep,” you say, and it’s more of a threat than a reassurance. You shut off the faucet and wrap a towel around your hand, and the universe waits with bated breath until you hear Keith walking away. You glance up at the mirror again and it’s shattered, but the thin cracks like spiderwebs in the glass do nothing to skew the image of the woman’s face. She looks the same. 

Katie Holt fell in love with Keith Kogane. Katie Holt risked her life for her family again and again. Katie Holt freed millions from a lifetime of suffering. Katie Holt was a hero. 

She died in a war. You are not Katie Holt anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> haha edgy
> 
> anyways thanks for the read
> 
> { [tumblr](http://vallraiene.tumblr.com) | [instagram](http://instagram.com/vallraiene/) }


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